


You Idiot Kid

by Lauralot



Series: Alexander Pierce should have died slower [25]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, Overdosing, Stuffed Toys, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:31:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7003237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/pseuds/Lauralot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky rescues a teddy bear from the trash.</p><p>It takes a lot of work to fix up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Idiot Kid

**You say you know what he did**  
 **But you idiot kid, you don’t have a clue**  
— “Needle in the Hay,” Elliot Smith

  


The bear has a small satin heart stitched between its paws.

There are rhinestones glued onto the heart that used to spell out “I Love You,” but some of them have flaked away, leaving yellowed little circles of glue in their place. Both the bear and the heart are stained, like someone spilled coffee on them. Bucky wonders if that happened before or after the bear got put out with the trash.

Bucky Bear thinks that whoever would put an innocent bear in the trash deserves to go to jail for neglect. And then get mauled by bears while they’re in prison.

Bucky doesn’t know how to find who put the bear next to the dumpster. He doesn’t think that matters, anyway. The most important thing now is the rescue, and that rescue’s being delayed by the man in front of Bucky moving so _slow_ down the sidewalk, staring at his phone.

Darting around the man, Bucky kneels down by the trash to get a better look at the bear. The dark stains look tacky up close, like maybe they’re cola spills and not coffee. Bucky can’t smell any coffee on the bear; the fur reeks of tobacco. Which means whoever abandoned the bear is a smoker, which would make them easier to track down, but the rescue is still the most important.

“Hey,” Bucky says softly. For a bear holding a heart, this one doesn’t look very happy. He seems cheaply made, and some of the stitches of his face are pulled too tight, making it look like he’s frowning. And why wouldn’t he be frowning? He’s headed to a dump. “Do you want to come home with me? I can get you cleaned up. I won’t ever throw you away, I promise.”

The bear doesn’t look any happier. Bucky can’t blame him; he probably thought that the first people who brought him home wouldn’t throw him away either. But he doesn’t say no, maybe because Bucky’s already holding Bucky Bear. Or maybe because he figures anything’s better than a landfill.

“C’mon.” Bucky scoops the bear up, holding him close against his chest. His clothes are going to reek of cigarettes, but better that than holding the bear at arm’s length and making him feel even more rejected. “We’re going to see Rumlow,” he mutters, standing up, as if the bear knows who that is. “He’ll have honey.”

Once he gets back home, the bear can go straight into the wash. If he can be washed. Maybe Bucky should just scrub at him with a washcloth. But that won’t fix the smell that probably reaches all the way in through his stuffing. Bucky’s going to have to Google what to do here. He’ll use Rumlow’s laptop.

Bucky continues toward the apartment, toying around with the thought of calling Steve for a ride home once he’s through at Rumlow’s. Steve knows that’s where he’s headed; Bucky told him before he left. Steve may not like the visits, but he’s not about to forbid Bucky from having them. And letting Steve know when they’re occurring prevents another incident of Rumlow’s door being kicked in by a super soldier.

Still, Rumlow probably wouldn’t appreciate the knowledge that Steve’s anywhere near the vicinity of his home. And while a ride back to the tower would get the bear clean sooner, maybe airing out on a walk back would be just as beneficial.

It’s not something he has to decide right now, anyway. Bucky starts up the fire escape that leads to Rumlow’s window. Maybe he’ll let the bear sit on the sill while he’s there. Rumlow has a hard enough time breathing sometimes, with his throat and sinuses still all scarred up from smoke inhalation. It’s probably best if Bucky doesn’t flood the apartment with the scent of cigarettes on top of all of that.

But the apartment’s thick with another smell when Bucky eases open the window, acrid enough to sting his nose. Puke. He rolls his eyes, setting the bears down on the sill as he slides inside. “Too much to drink again? You’re gonna burn through your stomach one of these days if you don’t—”

Bucky freezes.

Rumlow’s not in the bathroom with his head shoved in the toilet bowl. He’s lying on the couch, vomit flecked on his lips and all over the floor. His eyes are shut, and the skin between his raised, red scars is chalky. He’s not moving.

Once, there was a mission in Sweden. After, the Commander and Agent Rollins had gotten really drunk and a lot of stuff had happened, but all Bucky can think of now is when they got back to the hotel and the Commander passed out, face down on the bed.

“Shove him on his side, Soldier,” Agent Rollins had ordered. “Don’t let the idiot drown in his own puke.”

Drown. Don’t let him drown. Don’t let him _suffocate._

The Commander’s head is already turned to the side when Bucky runs to him, but he still shoves the Commander until he’s all the way sideways. The Commander’s chest is moving up and down, but not very much at _all_ , and Bucky can’t find a pulse and he’s almost screaming until he realizes he’s using the left hand, which can’t feel stuff like that very well. “Commander!” He shakes the Commander’s shoulder, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Commander Rumlow!”

 _Bucky,_ Bucky Bear says. He’s just on the window sill, but he sounds thousands of miles away. _Bucky!_

Bucky can’t get enough air in. His heart is so fast and his eyes are wet and the Commander won’t _move._

 _Bucky!_ Bucky Bear’s shouting, but he doesn’t sound mad. _Your phone’s in your pocket. Get it out._

He needs to call 911. But the police don’t like the Commander. Nobody likes him now that everybody knows he worked for HYDRA. They’ll just hurt him worse.

 _The police won’t come,_ Bucky Bear says. _The ambulance will. The Commander didn’t do anything wrong._

But he really, really did. Everything happening is wrong.

Bucky tugs the phone out of his pocket and drops it on the floor. He scrambles to pick it up. He’s got sick on his hands and his pants now and it’s gross and nobody’s going to want him to come home like that.

“911,” says a lady on the other end of the phone. “Please state your emergency.”

“The Commander’s sick and I can’t wake him up!” Bucky shouts. He’s crying and she probably can’t even understand him, and for a second Bucky thinks that’s good because he’s not supposed to call Rumlow the Commander anymore. People might think he still likes HYDRA if he does. But there’s nothing good about taking longer to get help.

“What happened?” the lady asked. She sounds confused. Her voice is soft and Bucky shuts his eyes, trying to pretend he’s talking to Tasha. He tries to breathe like Bruce taught him, but there’s not time.

“Rumlow got sick and I think he drank too much and I can’t wake him up! We’re at his apartment and – ” 

“Okay, he drank too much and he won’t wake up,” the lady says. “Do you know the address?”

Bucky can’t remember, but Bucky Bear can, so he repeats what the bear says.

“Do you know what he drank?”

“Beer.” Bucky looks at all the bottles scattered around. “Maybe vodka. I don’t know what kind.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” the lady says. “That’s okay. What’s your name?”

“Bucky,” he says. He should have said James. Now everyone will know he was here and it’ll get all over the news and people will say that the Commander’s still in HYDRA and Bucky is too and they’ll say Daddy should be arrested for letting Bucky run around with HYDRA people.

“Bucky. That’s a nice name. You’re being really brave, Bucky.”

He doesn’t feel brave. He feels like he’s going to be sick too.

“Who won’t wake up, Bucky? Is it your daddy?”

Bucky shakes his head, except the phone lady can’t see that. “It’s the Comm—it’s Brock. He worked with my daddy.” Both of his daddies, except Bucky doesn’t want to talk about his first daddy. And he really doesn’t want other people to know that he still thinks of Pierce as his daddy, even if his doctors say it’s okay to feel however he feels.

“Is Brock babysitting you?”

“He threw up,” Bucky says. “I don’t know how long he’s been like this.”

“Okay. Bucky, do you know if Brock drank anything else besides the beer? Or ate anything? Maybe took medicine?”

“He takes medicine,” Bucky says immediately. For the first time, he sees a bottle of the Commander’s painkillers on the coffee table. It’s almost covered up by all the beers, lying on its side. “He has to. He got burned really bad and he hurts all the time.”

“He’s burned?”

“It was a long time ago,” Bucky says. “But it still hurts.”

“Do you know the name of the medicine, Bucky? If there’s any nearby, could you spell out the letters?”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, thinking of all the bottles he found under the Commander’s sink. He should just pick up the one on the table, but he can’t move. It’s still hard just to breathe. “It’s, um, it’s called Ox...uh, Oxy...”

“Oxycontin?” the phone lady asks.

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. That’s good, Bucky. You’re a really big help. There’s an ambulance on the way now, okay? They’re going to help. When they get there, they need somebody to buzz them in, okay? Can you reach the door? Or are there any neighbors or other people who could press it for you?”

“The only other people are my bears,” Bucky says. “I can reach the door.” His face flushes. She thinks he’s really five because he can’t be an adult even when the Commander’s probably dying. “I’m tall enough.”

“That’s good.” The phone lady’s voice is really happy, like one of the grown-ups on Sesame Street or something. “You’re being so brave, Bucky. What grade are you in?”

Bucky wants to die. But he can’t because the Commander would be all alone. “I’m not in school,” he mumbles.

“Oh wow,” says the phone lady. “You must be really mature. They’re almost there, sweetheart. I’ll stay with you on the phone until they get there, okay?”

“I want my daddy,” Bucky says. He listens really hard, but he can’t hear any sirens yet. He doesn’t think the Commander has a cell phone. “Can you get somebody to call my daddy? So he can find us at the hospital?”

“Do you know your daddy’s number, Bucky?”

He doesn’t, but Bucky Bear does.

*

By the time Steve gets to the hospital, Bucky’s already paced up and down the hall one hundred and sixty-eight times. He’s been counting to keep himself from completely losing it and punching through a wall. Bucky Bear and the new bear are sitting on a bench. They’re both wearing surgical masks. One of the EMTs put the masks on them to help Bucky calm down once they were in the ambulance. Bucky has one too, resting around his neck.

“Bucky,” Steve says, and then he’s hugging so hard that Bucky feels his back crack. “I’m sorry, there was a wreck and I brought one of the cars instead of my bike so I couldn’t just slip around it and—are you okay?”

“Rumlow’s stable,” Bucky says. He got the update almost ten minutes ago now, but he’s still full of nervous energy that no amount of good news and pacing have removed. “They pumped his stomach. I don’t know what else they did. But they say he hasn’t screwed himself up beyond repair, still.”

It sounds ridiculous, saying it out loud, and maybe that’s why Bucky can’t stop worrying. Rumlow’s insides might not be burned, but they must still be affected from the fire, smoke, and rubble that was crushing Rumlow until they dug him out. Between that and all the pills and booze he shoves into his body on a regular basis, how can he bounce back from an overdose so quickly?

“Was it—” Steve steps back. His face is tense, and he chews a little at his lip like he’s searching for the most delicate phrasing. “Was it intentional?”

“I don’t know. No. I don’t think so.” Bucky doesn’t have a clue. But it seems like if Rumlow wanted to kill himself, he’d choose something more failsafe. Assuming he had the energy and resources. There’s no way to be sure until Rumlow wakes up, but it seems more like a stupid accident than anything else.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “I’m so sorry, Buck. We’re filling in your whole chart with stars when you get back, you’ve earned it. You should never have had to deal with something like this, especially not alone.”

“Bucky Bear was there.” He shrugs. “And he’s a lot better in a crisis than me, it turns out. I was useless.”

“You weren’t useless.” The vehemence in Steve’s voice is almost startling; it’s a tone he used to use on Commandos missions.

“You weren’t there.” Bucky shakes his head. “I was crying and five and—”

“And still called 911 and gave them all the information they needed,” Steve says firmly. Now he’s using his Dad voice. “If you hadn’t been there, Rumlow probably would have died, Buck. Don’t beat yourself up for getting scared. People freeze in emergencies all the time.”

“The Soldier didn’t,” Bucky mutters. He regrets it the instant he sees the hurt that flashes over Steve’s face.

“Only because they burned those reactions out of you,” Steve says, jaw set. “You did everything right, Bucky. It’s okay that you were scared.”

Bucky only nods. He can’t admit how scared he was, not right now. He feels like he could collapse if he does, and that would be another bit of publicity that he really doesn’t want to deal with. “Can Tony keep this out of the press?” he asks. “If one of the paramedics or something wants to tell the papers about the Winter Soldier visiting with a HYDRA operative?”

“He and Pepper were talking about it when I left,” Steve says. “We’re not gonna let anyone drag you through the mud over this. Promise.”

Another nod. Bucky feels so tired and heavy suddenly, and shuffles back to the bench to sit down. The adrenaline must finally be wearing off.

“Who’s that?” Steve asks, staring at the new bear.

“Rescued him from a garbage heap,” Bucky explains. “He needs a bath. If you can give those to bears.”

Just like that, Steve’s got his phone out to check.

“Hey,” Bucky says. “Do you think Tony could recommend some sort of rehab or halfway house? The kind that could set the patient up with a job afterward?”

Steve stops tapping at his phone, looking back at Bucky with a frown. “For Rumlow?”

“Do we know any other addicts without jobs?” Bucky asks. Well, probably some of Sam’s friends at the VA. But they have the VA, at least. If Rumlow tried to go to the VA, everyone would probably gang up to kick his ass.

“Bucky.” Steve settles beside him on the bench, threading his fingers through Bucky’s. “You just saved Rumlow’s life. It’s because of you that he’s not in prison right now. You don’t owe him anything else. You’ve never owed him anything in the first place.”

“It’s not about owing, Steve. It’s about doing the right thing. You’re the one who always says you can’t ignore a situation going south.”

“This is different,” Steve insists. There are flushed spots on his cheeks now, and Bucky can feel Steve’s grip tighten around his metal fingers.

“What, because he’s HYDRA? So he should die alone and in agony? You hate him that much?”

“He knew what Pierce was doing and he didn’t stop it!” Steve shouts.

Bucky flinches. Down the hall, a nurse sticks her head out of one of the rooms.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says immediately. His shoulders slump, and he tries to pull his hand away, but Bucky won’t let go.

“Steve—”

“He knew what Pierce was doing,” Steve insists. “Even before that, he let them keep you brainwashed and captive. He was fine with killing millions of people, Buck. He worked for HYDRA, for everything I hate. He lied to me and made me think he was my friend. Yeah, I hate him that much. But that’s not the point.”

Steve succeeds in pulling away this time. He stands up, wringing his hands as if he doesn’t know what to do with them. Like all of Bucky’s nervous energy transferred to him. “You’re a good person, Buck,” he says finally. “I know it’s hard for you to believe that sometimes, but you are. I don’t want you to think that you have to save Rumlow to—to redeem yourself somehow. I don’t want you to pin all your hopes and efforts on him. It’s only going to hurt you—both of you—when he fails.”

“I don’t think Rumlow’s some effigy of me,” Bucky protests. “That’s not what this is about.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t. Not unless he throws a bedpan at my head when I tell him he’s going to rehab.” Bucky stands up. “There’s a vending machine around the corner and I want apple juice. Should I get you anything?”

“I’m good.”

“Then you can wait with the bears.” Bucky takes out his wallet. “Try not to get bit. There’s not any honey here and Bucky Bear gets pissy when he’s hungry.”

*

“Is he dead?” Iron Bear asks.

The new bear is floating in the sink. Well, the new bear’s fur is floating in the sink. Pepper opened up one of the new bear’s seams earlier and Bucky took all his stuffing out because it would get mildewed and rotten if it soaked with the bear’s fur.

“No,” Bucky Bear says.

Pepper also used the seam ripper to take that stupid heart off of the bear’s paws, which Bucky Bear thinks is much better. The bear couldn’t have any dignity, carting that thing around.

“He looks dead,” Hawkbear says.

“Well, he’s not.”

Bucky Bear appointed himself as the official guard during the bear’s bath, and all the other Bearvengers keep stopping by to gawk. This is the new bear’s third soak. The first two got rid of all the gunk in his fur, but he still smelled a little like an ashtray afterward. So now he’s getting another long bath in the mix of water and detergent and a few drops of honey. The honey was Bucky Bear’s idea. There’s not enough to get the bear sticky, but this way he won’t be hungry while he’s in the sink.

Once his fur smells nice and clean, Bucky will come press the water out of the new bear. Then they can get him stuffed and sewn back up and dressed. Bucky Bear’s sure that the bear will be less frowny when he’s not naked.

“I have a PhD, you know,” Iron Bear says. “Several, actually.”

“I don’t care,” Bucky Bear says.

“And in my professional medical opinion, that bear is dead. Hulk? Back me up on this.”

Hulk Bear doesn’t answer. He just sighs and turns a page in his book.

“That’s it.” Bucky Bear gets up. “Everybody out!”

“Aw, Bucky Bear, no,” Hawkbear protests as Bucky Bear starts shoving them out of the bathroom.

“Emotions don’t change science!” Iron Bear says. Bucky Bear considers shutting the door on his head.

“All right, man, we’ll go,” War Machine Bear says. “Sorry about your dead friend.”

Slamming a door has never been so satisfying.

*

“Hey,” Natasha says.

Bucky looks up from the laptop. He’s been researching all the different rehab options in New York, seeing if any will allow some kind of pain management options. Rumlow does need painkillers; it’s just the way he uses them that fucks everything up. But Bucky’s not sure if there’s a way to teach him how to do it right that won’t result in an immediate relapse once Rumlow’s in charge of dosing himself again.

“Steve ask you to talk me out of it?” he asks.

Natasha shakes her head.

“You just decided to do it on your own, then.”

“I didn’t talk you out of it when you wanted to go to Rumlow’s apartment the first time,” Natasha says. “I’m the one who brought you there.”

Bucky settles back in his chair. “So...what? You can’t be here to tell me you approve.”

Natasha walks over. She scoots back some of the notebooks on Bucky’s desk so that she can sit down on the edge of it. “Like my disapproval would stop you. Do you remember what we talked about, the night I showed you where Rumlow lives?”

“How Steve was going to kill us?”

She smiles. “Other than that.”

He shrugs.

“I asked what you wanted to get out of it. You said you wanted to show Rumlow he didn’t control you anymore. That you’d freed yourself from HYDRA. So what did you get out of going back? Doing this?”

Bucky can feel his hands clamp around the armrests of the computer chair in spite of himself. “If he wanted to take me back to HYDRA, he’d have done it already. He’d have said some trigger word or got me to open up about if anyone was listening in. I run my mouth when I’m five.”

Natasha only gives him a look. “That’s not what I asked.”

“He’s lost everyone else,” Bucky says. “I’m the only one left.”

“That doesn’t obligate you to someone who hurt you, Bucky.” She slides her hand over his.

“It’s the right thing to do.”

*

“I told you he’s not dead,” Bucky Bear says smugly.

Iron Bear, who never admits when he’s wrong without a lot of prodding and frowning from War Machine Bear and Pepper Bear, only harrumphs. He turns his head away from the desk where Bucky’s putting nice, clean stuffing into the new bear.

Bucky didn’t think they could air the smell out of the original stuffing. It seems wrong to throw out all the bear’s fluff, though, as if they were trying to shove a whole different bear into the fur. So Bucky had peeled all the rhinestones off the satin heart and put it through the washing machine. He told Bucky Bear it was okay to wash because it didn’t have fur that could get ruined like the bear did. So now the heart and its stuffing are inside the bear’s chest.

Bucky got some baby clothes to put the bear in because Bucky Bear refused to set foot into the Build-a-Bear with its floppy bear skins all over. That was no way for a bear to be displayed. The new bear didn’t need any of that nonsense, anyway. Bucky could make a better bear than some store.

“I don’t know about this,” Bear Widow says. “How many times did his heart get washed? It could still be dirty.”

“Bucky wouldn’t have put it in like that.” Bucky Bear can feel his fur bristling.

Bear Widow shrugs.

“Just don’t be disappointed if the new bear isn’t any fun,” Captain Ameribear says. “You tried everything you could.”

Bucky Bear goes to talk to Red Panda instead.

*

“I don’t want to go back to HYDRA,” the Soldier says. It’s the fifth time he’s said this since the session started. He wants to be absolutely clear.

“We know.” Miriam’s voice is soft and soothing, though the Soldier can’t tell if she believes him or not. He wants to say it again, but he doesn’t want to waste time with redundancies.

“Yet you do still feel a connection to Rumlow,” Cornelius says.

“You’ve said my connection to the Secretary isn’t out of parameters,” the Soldier says quickly, tensing up. “Is a connection to the Commander not allowed?”

“You’re allowed to have whatever feelings you feel,” Cornelius says. “Your feelings can’t be wrong, James. I’m only asking to understand why helping Rumlow means as much to you as it does.”

“He’s hurt.” The Soldier frowns down at the carpet, thinking of the Commander unconscious on the couch. “Everyone he cares about has either died or disowned him. And...” He hesitates. “I told Natasha that it was the right thing to do.”

“Do you believe it was?” Miriam asks.

“Yes!” The Soldier can’t help tensing again. “I wouldn’t lie. But...” But even though it is the right thing, he doesn’t know why he wants to do it. And maybe that’s just as bad as lying. He gives the Bucky Bear a nervous squeeze. “But I don’t think that’s why I want to help. I don’t know why. I should know these things.”

“It’s all right to be confused,” Miriam says. “Your relationship to Rumlow is complicated, and not the sort of thing that’s easy to classify.”

“He was kind to me,” the Soldier says. “He returned me to HYDRA and Pierce, but he never treated me cruelly on missions. And now...Steve rescued me. He is my family, and so is everyone else here. I love them and they’re kind and I want to make them happy. But they don’t know the things Rumlow does. They weren’t there. Steve talks to me when I feel like an asset now, but it’s different with Rumlow.”

“He has direct experience with an aspect of your life that your friends never saw.” Cornelius nods. “It’s understandable to want to share your experiences.”

The Soldier shakes his head. “But this should be enough. Steve never locked me up or took me to the Secretary. I should be satisfied with him.”

“It’s not a matter of satisfaction, Bucky.” Miriam’s voice is both soft and firm, and the Soldier never understands how she does it. “People crave community, the ability to share what they feel. You can’t turn off that desire just because there are other people in your life who haven’t caused you that harm.”

“I think he’s sorry,” the Soldier says. “For taking me to Pierce. But I don’t know if he’s sorry for everything else. And even if he is...” The Soldier pauses, searching for words. “He still let those things happen. Steve would say I don’t owe him anything.”

“Steve may be right about owing, but this isn’t his decision to make.” Cornelius slides his glasses up on his nose. “It’s yours. Without considering anyone else’s opinions, do you want to help Rumlow or do you feel that you have to?”

“I don’t know.”

“Take your time,” Miriam says.

The Soldier thinks. He remembers the hospital when Steve came to meet him there, and suddenly it feels like he’s on the bench beside the bears again. _People freeze in emergencies all the time,_ Steve had said.

_The Soldier didn’t._

_Only because they burned those reactions out of you._

“I want to help,” the Soldier says. “I want to help people instead of hurting them. To do good instead of what HYDRA told me was right. Even to people who didn’t help me. That’s what I want to do.” Everyone thought it was all right when he wanted to help amputees. Rumlow’s just as hurt as they are.

And just because Rumlow didn’t save the Soldier, that doesn’t mean the Soldier wants to leave him to rot.

His doctors nod. They don’t say if he’s making the right choice. They never do.

They always leave that in his hands.

*

Bucky Bear thinks that the Commander’s room looks nice and not at all like the “goddamn junkie prison” he’d shouted it would be on the drive over.

Bucky had tipped the taxi driver a lot of money because of all the Commander’s yelling.

“There,” Bucky says. He shuts the closet door. He’d been unpacking the Commander’s clothes because the Commander was busy fuming and saying things like “How many times do you have to ruin my life, Winter?”

Bucky Bear assures Brock Bear that Bucky isn’t ruining the Commander’s life. He’s probably saving it, and Brock Bear will get to help with that too.

Brock Bear is wearing a black T-shirt for a baby, and black cargo pants. Bucky Bear doesn’t know why babies need cargo pants, but there were khaki and green pairs of them at the store too. He has straps of webbing crossed over his chest, with little black plastic sliders. They came from a camera bag that Bucky bought and picked the straps off of. Brock Bear doesn’t have any guns, but Bucky said that bears didn’t need guns, not even in rehab.

Brock Bear does have a travel-sized spray can of Axe, though.

“You probably don’t want to mention the HYDRA thing to anyone here,” Bucky tells the Commander. “I don’t want to get any calls about ambushes and stabbings.” 

“Like any of these fucks could stab me,” Rumlow mutters.

“I meant calls about _you_ doing the stabbing. It took me a lot of time to find this place, so don’t screw it up.” 

“I never asked for this, Winter.” 

“I know,” Bucky says. He opens up the window shades, filling the room with sunlight. “They’ve got visiting hours here, so I’ll be back next Saturday.” 

The Commander just grumbles angrily, but he did sign himself in once they got here. Maybe he figured Bucky would just follow him around and pester him until he broke down if he didn’t agree right away. Or maybe he doesn’t like feeling bad and sick all the time.

Bucky Bear warns Brock Bear that the Commander gets sad a lot. Especially if he starts to think about Agent Rollins. If that happens, Brock Bear needs to be as close by and huggable as possible. But he’s not a bad bear if the Commander doesn’t want to hold him. The Commander doesn’t hold Bucky Bear a lot of the time either. He’s just stubborn.

But he can speak Bear, so there’s that. And he comes up with good missions.

Bucky scoops Bucky Bear up. “Want to hug him goodbye?” 

“Just go back to your daddy,” the Commander says, rolling his eyes.

“Give this place a chance,” Bucky says. “I’d hate to have to think up a plan B, and you wouldn’t like it either.” 

B for Bear, Bucky Bear thinks. The Bearvengers could watch the Commander at all times and pour all his beer down the sink. It’s a good plan.

“Why do you care if I fuck up my life?” the Commander demands.

“Because my daddy taught me to fight for things, no matter how boneheaded,” Bucky says. “See you next week, Commander.” 

Bucky Bear waves goodbye to Brock Bear as they head for the door.

“Winter?” the Commander says, and Bucky pauses in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

**Author's Note:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/152680774@N07/35141340463/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Behold [Feanor_in_leather_pants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feanor_in_leather_pants/pseuds/Feanor_in_leather_pants)'s glorious Brock Bear!
> 
> [Needle in the Hay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qs5wIJlUK1o) is a song by Elliot Smith.
> 
> The mission in Sweden was detailed in another of my fics, _[Some Plans Are Stupid.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2434808)_
> 
> Generally, just a damp rag and some detergent are enough to clean a teddy bear, but I figured the full [soaking treatment](http://www.wikihow.com/Refurbish-a-Teddy-Bear) would be best for a set-in odor like that.
> 
> Originally, I wanted Brock Bear to look [like this,](http://loveislame.com/products/franklin-7-shit-bitch-bear) but then I realized no one would ever throw such an amazing bear away.
> 
> Check out these awesome APSHDS-inspired fics: _[Thunderstorms](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6649903/chapters/15211315)_ by [Not_You](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You), [_Forgotten_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6860692/chapters/15659704) by [Dracosani](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracosani/pseuds/Dracosani), _[Of Mites and Iron Men](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6888526)_ by [MoiraColleen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MoiraColleen/pseuds/MoiraColleen), and [_Doesn't anyone care about the bees!_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6973417) by [chaoszoneahead](http://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoszoneahead/pseuds/chaoszoneahead).
> 
> Also check me out on [Tumblr](http://lauralot89.tumblr.com).


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